The Cupboard Under the Stairs
by webhead.bugboy
Summary: Harry never thought there was anything wrong with living in a cupboard. He had never really thought about it all that much. Hermione and Ron find out and are aghast.


Harry was having a fantastic time at Ron's house. He was still surprised that everyone liked him. He and Ron had just finished playing a game of Quidditch. He held his Nimbus 2000 aloft. He and Ron walked up the narrow staircase up to Ron's bedroom. Harry rubbed at a scrape he had acquired when he had fallen off his broom. It looked worse than it actually was. Harry looked at the large watch that he had inherited from Dudley. He and Ron were almost late for dinner.

"Ron, we should hurry." He called, "It's almost five thirty." Ron picked up the pace, almost running up the stairs. They raced up the stairs, ignoring Percy who chastised them for making so much noise. They hurried into Ron's room and changed quickly out of their dirty clothes.

Harry rummaged through his trunk. He grabbed an old shirt of Dudley's. He pulled it over his head. Harry went over to the mirror and checked that he looked at least somewhat decent. The magical mirror tutted at him. He ran a hand through his messy black locks. He and Ron ran out of the room again, almost running into Hermione and Ginny.

"Someone's hungry." Hermione observed.

"Sorry, Hermione. We just got back from playing Quidditch." Harry apologised, then took off after Ron. He was absolutely ravenous. Harry raced down the rest of the stairs. He took the seat closest to Ron. Mrs. Weasley was cooking chicken and baked potatoes. Mrs. Weasley was the best cook Harry had ever known. She started doling out large portions as the girls sat down next to the other Weasleys. Harry took a large bite of his potatoes. They were perfect.

"This is wonderful Mrs. Weasley." Harry said through another mouthful of potatoes.

"Thank you, dear. I doubt the Muggles fed you right." Mrs. Weasley muttered the last part. She usually refrained from insulting the Dursley's in front of him. Harry didn't know how to answer that, so he took a large bite of chicken.

After everyone was stuffed to the brim with food Harry went over to Mrs. Weasley to see if she needed help cleaning up. "Do you want me to clean the dishes?" Harry asked politely.

"No, no dear. I'll clean them later. You go upstairs with Ron and do whatever you boys do." She chuckled. Harry went up the narrow stairs after nodding to Mrs. Weasley. Harry was still awed at how nice she was. He entered Ron's room to see Hermione and Ginny there as well as Ron.

"I mean, how come you get the bigger room? I _am_ older. I should get the bigger room." Ron argued to Ginny.

"Oh, Ron. Grow up. It's like a foot bigger." Hermione reasoned.

"Still." He said stubbornly. "Mine's the size of a broom closet. Right Harry?"

"Nah, it's much larger. I used to live in a cupboard." Harry answered, thinking about the size of the cupboard under the stairs.

"You're joking right?" Ginny inquired looking shocked.

"No. That was my room until I turned eleven." Harry said, getting incredulous looks from the others in the room. He wondered why it was such a big deal.

"Harry, why did you you live in a cupboard?" Hermione questioned carefully.

"Because the Dursleys weren't nice people. They said that Dudley needed room for his toys. I don't understand. Why is this such a big deal?"

"Because that is totally wrong. They shouldn't be able to do that." Ron spoke up from his bed, a murderous look on his face.

"I'm telling mum." Ron decided.

"Ron, wait." Harry reached out and grabbed Ron's arm. "You can't do anything about it. I can't go anywhere else because of the blood wards. If I go anywhere else Voldemort can reach me. And anyway, I have my own room now."

"We should still tell someone. They shouldn't be allowed to treat you like that. Ever." Ron argued back.

"Nobody can really do anything. Harry's right, You Know Who's still out there and the Blood wards are the best protection Harry has." Hermione said sadly. Ginny stood up.

"I'm getting Fred and George. They got you from the Dursleys." She announced fiercely. Harry was about to ask how that would help, but refrained when he saw the look of sheer determination in her eyes.

She quickly returned with the twins in tow. "You mean that that cupboard we broke your trunks out of used to be your room?" George asked incredulously.

"Yes. I still don't see why this is such a big deal." Harry said.

"Because that's child abuse, mate." Ron answered.

"I wouldn't take it that far." Harry looked at Hermione in confirmation. She gave a small nod.

"Come on. A few chores and living under the stairs is a small price to pay for them having to take care of me all these years. Basically, Dumbledore dumped me on their doorstep, like, 'Hey, your sisters dead. Take care of her kid.' They didn't have to take care of me. They could have taken me to an orphanage. But they didn't, and I'm fine." He ranted, trying to get them to see it from his side.

"Still, that's not what you should have to go through. You should have been loved."Ginny pointed out.

"Come on, there's nothing that we can do about it. I don't see why we're still arguing about it." Harry looked around at all the redheads and the brunette. He honestly couldn't see what the big deal was. He wiped his sweaty palms on his oversized jeans.

"I understand Harry, but this isn't something to be taken lightly." Hermione stood up. "I still say we should tell someone. We can't deal with this on our own."

"But there is nothing to deal with. Nobody can do _anything_ about it _."_ They were going in circles. Harry ran his hands in his jet black hair, making it stick up even more. The mirror clicked in disapproval and he shot a nasty look in it's direction. "I used to live in a cupboard, big deal. I don't know what you want to do about it, because there is nothing _to do_." He grabbed his Nimbus and stomped down the stairs. He would've slammed the front door, but it was already looking rather worn out and he didn't want to break it.

Harry jumped onto his trusty broom. He had found that when he was on his broom he could forget his worries for a while. He didn't know if it was the wind through his hair, or the smooth action of his broom that calmed him down. Honestly it didn't really matter.

Harry definitely didn't like the Dursleys but if he went anywhere else he would be putting other people in danger. He was sure that the people that he had just stormed out on were talking about him right at this moment, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

He swooped low to the ground and picked up a small ball that they had been playing with earlier. He threw the ball as hard as he could, letting out some of his pent-up frustration. He let it fall for a moment. Then he dived reaching out for the small ball. He grabbed it, skimming the long grass as he did so.

He did this until he was out of breath and the sky had turned a light purple. He glanced down and saw Hermione. He swooped down to her. He jumped off his broom gracefully.

"How long have you been there?" Harry inquired.

"Not long. Are you okay?" Said Hermione, looking at his skinned arm from earlier.

"Oh, I'm fine. It looks worse than it is." He moved his sleeve up to see the scrape properly.

"You should probably still see Mrs. Weasley. She's really good at healing minor things." Hermione said, making a move to go inside.

"Alright. Just let me put this with all of the other stuff." He gestured at the ball in his hand. She nodded, making her way inside. He walked over to the spidery broomshed. Chucking the ball in the small bin, he went to go follow Hermione. It seemed that they had dropped the whole matter.

Mrs. Weasley was sitting at the table reading a copy of Witch Weekly, the dishes washing themselves in the sink. Hermione was in the living room, looking for her copy of 'A History of Magic'. Both women looked up at the sound of his footsteps.

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley. I accidentally scraped my arm. Hermione says your good at the healing stuff." Harry said awkwardly. Whenever he had gotten hurt at the Dursleys he would usually go in the bathroom and grab a Band-Aid from the cabinet or just ignore it.

"Oh dear, Why didn't you tell me sooner? I'll get you all patched up. Just a moment." She grabbed her wand and a first-aid kit from a drawer. She grabbed a mysterious paste from the kit and raised heer wand. She muttered an incantation and wiped the paste off with a towel. "See, good as new."

"Wow, Thanks Mrs. Weasley." Harry said gratefully. He looked at the previously scraped skin in amazement. It was if it was never hurt at all. He and Hermione went back up to Ron's room. Ron was laid back on his back reading a comic book. He looked up as soon as the entered.

"Sorry, mate." He apologised putting the comic down.

"It's fine. I'm sorry I walked out like that." Harry replied, laying his Nimbus 2000 down on his cot.

"Well, you're welcome at our place anytime." Ron assured.

"Thanks Ron." Harry said in reply. "Chess?" Harry gestured to the chess board on the small table. Hermione smiled slightly at the two's antics.

Harry smiled as he directed his pawns. Fred and George had taught the little pieces to swear. It seemed that he would always have a family, even if he didn't have on growing up. And for that he was grateful.

The End.

Harry Potter does not belong to me. If there is anything wrong, tell me. Please review! Thanks.


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